


Check This Hand

by theseoldbones



Category: Warchild Series - Karin Lowachee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:17:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseoldbones/pseuds/theseoldbones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 Times Ryan Azarcon Was S.O.L. During Poker Night</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check This Hand

**Author's Note:**

> for my sweet binkie, nessi <3

1.

"We're _not_ playing strip poker."

  
  


 

2.

"And we're not making this a drinking game, Ryan!"

 

"Sheez, Musey, when are you going to learn to live a little…"

 

 

 

3.

They may not be drinking their forfeits but that doesn't mean Ryan can't indulge.

 

Especially since Evan is going to win, same as he always does, and Ryan doesn't like the look of foregone conclusions when he's sober. He maybe should have reconsidered pregaming, though. Evan wins half of his chips in the first three hands because drunk Ryan felt lucky enough to play them blind. And to call every time Evan raised.

 

They haven't even been here for twenty minutes and Ryan knows, even with the sinking feeling in his stomach somewhat obscured by the pleasant warmth of Evan's beer, that he's going to be the first out tonight. Hopefully his forfeit is something innocuous, like Jos'.

 

(A victory high-five for each round Evan wins. Shockingly, Jos hasn't maimed Evan yet. Or Yuri, when he'd suggested more effective high-fiving techniques with every appearance of sincerity.)

  
  


 

4.

Out of the four of them, Evan is far and away the most ruthless sumbas aboard the Mac. Ryan had known about his cardshark abilities indirectly, as the vehicle of his off-shift beer acquisitions, but after four straight weeks of getting thoroughly, unabashedly hustled Ryan's not understanding, or amused, or entertained.

 

At this point Ryan doesn't even give a shit about winning. No, he just wants Evan I'm-just-good-at-reading-people-hah-hah D'Silva to have a bad hand. Any bad hand.

 

"Fold." Yuri tosses his cards into the pot and Evan wins. Again.

 

Ryan groans and tosses back the rest of his drink as Jos gives Evan an extremely reluctant high-five without looking up from the meager chip pile he's obsessively sorting. That tends to be Jos' coping mechanism, Ryan's noticed. As his chips dwindle he rearranges everything to hide the higher value pieces behind the 5, 10 and 20 stacks. Given that it's Jos, Ryan is inclined to think there's some sort of strategy going on there even though it rarely seems to give him an edge during actual gameplay.

 

Not that Jos is here to win. No, Jos is here because he, like Evan and Yuri, don't treat him like something too fragile for casual handling. How they wound up with a standing weekly poker date is… well, mostly his latest salvo against his father in the War for Some Fucking Autonomy (currently being fought in the You Can't Tell Me Who My Friends Are theater.)

 

Sure, he's got a ways to go before Yuri is actually his friend, but he still hasn't given up on Yuri, and hell, he's even had some fun playing up his visual impairment when it's just the two of them left in the round:

 

_"Straight flush."_

 

_"A flush is usually defined as a hand all of one suit."_

 

_"Oh. Isn't that what I put down?"_

 

_"...Take it."_

 

He's pretty sure Yuri only lets him get away with it because he's amused, but Ryan has nowhere near enough shame to stop. It's also much better than the pity he's soaking up from everyone else. Maybe it's weird that he's hanging out with the guy who's been attempting to kill him on and off since he left Earth, but that's what happens when everyone else goes all wide-eyed and solicitous whenever they see him coming. They're basically forcing him into this.

 

Jos digs an elbow into his ribs and Ryan realizes everyone is looking at him expectantly. "Sorry, I zoned…"

 

"You sure did." Evan grins at him.

 

Yuri unfolds his hand so Ryan can see the red chip tucked between his first two fingers, just above his cigret. "You're big blind." Which means Yuri is waiting on him to call.

 

He doesn't have to dig too far to find his own red chip to toss into the center of the table, along with Jos' white one, and soon the betting is back around to him before he's even had the chance to check his cards.

 

"Uh…"

 

"Call or fold?" Jos frowns at his own hand.

 

Ryan's cards are shit. But he's already got cred in the pot.

 

"Check." He decides.

 

Evan, the smirking little shit, raises high enough for Yuri to fold out of turn. Fuck it, Ryan decides, tossing his own cards in as Evan and Yuri bicker good-naturedly about whether or not that necessitates a forfeit, and Jos calls.

 

Ryan figures now's as good a time as he's going to get to take a leak and refresh his drink so he stands up--

 

\--and suddenly Jos' chips are scattering across the table, and off the edges, and into Evan's own mountainous pile.

 

Ryan doesn't realize that he'd had anything to do with it until he sees Jos, stiff with shock and outrage, slowly turn his head to glare at him. It feels like long minutes pass before he can piece together the sensation of his hip connecting with Jos' elbow, but it can only have been mere seconds. Jos still has one arm outstretched, chip in hand, about to call.

 

"Well…" Ryan takes a judicious step backwards, out of Jos' range.

 

Jos puts down the chip without breaking eye contact.

 

In that moment all Ryan can think is that he really, really needs to pee. He manages to mumble something about visiting the head (miraculously self-editing the part where Jos is literally scaring the piss out of him) and makes his escape.

 

That's a job well done, until he comes back to the announcement that he's cut off for the rest of the game.

  
  


 

5.

Ryan's got about a half-buzz going now.

 

Despite managing to recoup some of his initial losses he's still about even with Yuri and Jos, while Evan continues to casually bleed them all dry.

 

He's not allowed to drink, and he knows he can't continue this sober, so he does his best to take himself out of the game. Yuri ends up being the one to win Ryan's last hand, and most of his chips, but he's genuinely happy it's going to anyone besides D'Silva. Sure, he's going to owe the shit a forfeit at the end of the night, but Evan's been fairly tame with those so far. The first week was Yuri, who became the next week's designated card shuffler. Then Ryan had been obligated to refill everyone's drinks and snacks for the duration of the third game. Lastly, Jos was 'promoted' to the position of High-Five Lieutenant, Second Grade. Yuri helped Evan make a dopey little rank insignia that Jos pinned to his collar with gentle fingers and a thunderous scowl.

 

Probably Evan will make him the Chip Stacker or something for their next game, to keep Jos appeased.

 

He continues daydreaming along similar lines until he notices the rest of the table has gone quiet because--

 

Evan is out.

 

"Of course," Evan snickers, "Of-fucking-course you'd pull out pocket Queens!"

 

"I just have a way with the ladies." Yuri grins.

 

"I knew that red-hot nova was making eyes at your six."

 

Yuri raises an eyebrow. "You keeping track of who's ogling my goods, D'Silva?"

 

"Eh, it's an easy job," Evan lights a fresh cigret. "Hardly anything there to keep track of."

 

Jos rolls his eyes and collects the cards while Yuri adds the remainder of Evan's chips to his own pile. And all of a sudden Ryan is fully invested in how the rest of this game plays out. Before, Evan's win had been inevitable. Now, Ryan is justifiably concerned that his forfeit will be decided by one of two actual murderers. He starts chewing at his nails.

 

"This is a nice change." Evan's grin is obscenely wide. He's leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, surveying the table like he hasn't just lost a pile of cred. "I get tired of winning all the time, y'know?"

 

"Shut up." Jos throws a snack chip at Evan's face. It winds up in his mouth once he's fished it out of his fatigues.

 

"I can't decide if I want the suspense to kill me before either one of you does it or what." Ryan muses.

 

Jos turns his cool gaze on Ryan. "I'd root for Kirov, if I were you." Yuri looks up from his cards upon hearing his name.

 

"Well," Ryan says weakly, "I guess that's… Good to know."

 

"So, Raz, can you put me down in your will for some cred and that boss guitar? I been meaning to learn how to play." Evan is rearranging Jos' chip stacks in order of value.

 

Ryan considers that. Briefly. "Hell no." They rib each other back and forth as Yuri spends way too long sorting his cards, tapping thoughtfully at his chin, doing innocuous random shit to wind up the tension. He nods to himself decisively.

 

"All in." Yuri smiles serenely at Jos as he pushes his chips into the center.

 

Evan bursts out laughing. Ryan mutters a despairing, "Fuck me."

 

For a breathless moment Jos examines his cards. When his eyes flick upwards they land on Ryan. "Call." They flip their cards and Ryan thinks he must be missing something because Jos has a full house and Yuri has nothing, King-high.

 

Evan lets out a low whistle. "And Jos wins the pot."

 

"Oh," Yuri doesn't sound _even a little_ sincere, "I thought I had the flush." His smirk grows, twirling higher on his face like his cigret smoke.

 

Ryan drops his head onto the table with enough force that Jos' chips fall over again.

  


\---

  


"Why are you so evil?" Ryan whines the following week.

 

"Probably because I want you to be miserable."

 

"I knew it."

 

"Please. I know you're not surprised."

 

"I don't like this game sober."

 

"Somehow, that just makes your inevitable defeat all the more satisfying."

 

"And you made me switch chairs--"

 

"I don't trust you not to cry on me when I win all your chips, Azarcon."

 

" _For fuck's sake_ , your options are CALL or FOLD. Save the weird, antagonistic hate-flirting for after I kick your asses all the way back to EarthHub."

 


End file.
